


Things We Left On The Cutting Room Floor

by tookumade



Series: Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - 2015 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 18:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4491021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/tookumade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hanamaki gets the chance to move overseas, Matsukawa discovers just how much he really misses him.</p><p>(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 1 - online, movie night)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Left On The Cutting Room Floor

  
For a little over a year now, Matsukawa and Hanamaki had made it a weekly tradition to see a movie together every Wednesday, and they had never missed a week. Most of the time, they went to the local cinema, but when they exhausted their choices, then they hung out at one of their dorm rooms and watched older movies on their laptops, occasionally joined by Oikawa and Iwaizumi.  
  
The movies were usually entertaining enough, but in the cinema, it was two hours of being stuck in the dark and focused on the movie before them, not talking to each other… two hours Matsukawa felt could have been better spent talking about anything or hanging out, just being able to see each other. He didn’t mind the cinemas much, but if he had to choose, then Matsukawa much preferred movie nights at home: comfortably-lit living rooms and whatever snacks they wanted, loudly snarking their way through the films they watched… being able to enjoy Hanamaki’s company more freely.  
  
But Hanamaki liked catching movies as they were released, so Matsukawa went along with it. If anything, Hanamaki’s excited face after a particularly good movie, or his deadpan snarking after a bad or boring one, made sitting in the dark cinema in silence a little more worth it.  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
The first time the idea of them moving out together had ever been brought up, was towards the end of a Wednesday movie night at Hanamaki’s dorm, months ago. It was nearly eleven at night and Oikawa and Iwaizumi were over, and they had all given up trying to pay attention to a psychological thriller with too many lines of poor dialogue, when Oikawa looked over at Matsukawa and Hanamaki and said thoughtfully, “Have you two ever thought about moving out together?”  
  
They hadn’t, until now. Why, was anyone’s guess, given how close they were, but they supposed going to separate universities played a large part.  
  
“We… could?” said Hanamaki as he and Matsukawa exchanged looks a little uncertainly.  
  
“We’ve got end-of-semester exams next month though, so we can talk about it after them,” said Matsukawa.  
  
“Oh, yeah, good point,” Hanamaki agreed. “Speaking of—Iwaizumi, I need to borrow your notes on–”  
  
“ _Again?_ ”  
  
“This is only the first time!”  
  
“ _Second!_ You had to borrow my notes for the last round of exams!”  
  
“Only the _second_ time then! Stingy!”  
  
Somehow, that had delved into a brief pillow fight, and Oikawa and Matsukawa had ducked out of the way, laughing, and the topic of moving out together was pushed back and left for another day.  
  
It stayed in Matsukawa’s mind quite persistently, though.  
  
It was a good idea—they could find a place at an equal distance between both their universities; a larger and nicer place than Matsukawa’s somewhat grotty dorm building that had problems with its hot water every couple of days, or Hanamaki’s dorm building with the couple on the floor above who kept having extremely loud sex late into the night. They could split rent and chores, they could organise dinners and movie nights and game nights with each other without having to go through their roommates first. And they got along well enough that they could live together for a long time without getting at each other’s throats…  
  
Yeah, it was a pretty good idea.  
  
The more he thought about it, the more it made Matsukawa’s chest feel warm, as he pictured coming home to each other every day, having meals together, bringing their weekly movie nights to the living room more often, play-fighting over who got to use the bathroom first. Sharing that sort of domestic life with his closest friend was a nice thought… a slightly scary and sudden change, especially given all the planning they would have to do, but it could work …  
  
It was surprisingly hard to make the first step, though. The topic of moving out was brought up a few more times after that, but nothing of result ever followed. They’d hum over it a little and mutter a thoughtful “yeah…” but that was it. They were constantly busy, but there were times when Matsukawa caught himself wondering whether ‘busy’ was just an excuse; it felt like a big jump, and neither of them seemed ready to make it for whatever reason, despite the pros outweighing the cons by quite a bit.  
  
And so the weeks passed and they went about their daily lives, fretting over their studies, catching up as often as they could and watching movies every Wednesday, entertaining the idea of moving out together only briefly—briefly enough for Matsukawa to start thinking that maybe they were both running away from something. Not that he really knew what they were running _from_ , and any time he attempted to grasp his thoughts more firmly, they would slip away, but it was obvious something was amiss.  
  
Well, that was okay, they weren’t in a real rush (thought Matsukawa, as his dorm building’s hot water stopped working for the second time that week).  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
Matsukawa was lying on Hanamaki’s bed and flipping through a volleyball magazine. It was a Sunday afternoon and they had spent half the day procrastinating their respective assignments, and playing games instead. Hanamaki had ducked out of his dorm to buy snacks from the convenience store around the corner, leaving Matsukawa to enjoy the lazy quiet for a while.  
  
He reached to drop the magazine onto Hanamaki’s desk, and as he turned to lie comfortably into his side, he looked around Hanamaki’s room; at the colourful posters and flyers and cards that decorated the walls, the small bookshelf in the corner that collected more layers of dust than books, his desk with post-it notes and silly stickers decorating it, his spinny deskchair that was missing a wheel for whatever reason, his closet with its door ajar and several shirts threatening to spill out, only held in place by the weight of the heavy coat hanging on the doorknob.  
  
He smiled. Everything about this place was Hanamaki, for sure; from Hanamaki’s bedroom back when he still lived with his parents, to this dorm room here, the feel had changed very little since their first year of high school. This brightly-coloured chaos, this half-hearted attempt at organisation because he had more important things to worry about… if they moved out together, Matsukawa would be coming home to this every day.  
  
Ah, there was that warmth in his chest again. He should sit down with Hanamaki and talk it over seriously. Their end-of-semester exams were already done, so they could focus on this. They would have to plan a lot for it though: changing their addresses on official documents, taking up part-time jobs in preparation for the time when their parents wanted them to pay their own rent, buying furniture, buying things to make their home feel like a home…  
  
Someone was shaking his arm.  
  
“Hey, Matsukawa, wake up.”  
  
“Hnngh.” Matsukawa forced his eyes open and he stared up blearily at Hanamaki, who looked back at him impassively.  
  
“Come on, dumbass, don’t fall asleep here. We still have assignments to do.”  
  
“Mrgh, don’t wanna,” Matsukawa mumbled into the pillow.  
  
“I’m going to physically throw you off the bed. _Go home_ and sleep, I can’t do any homework with you around anyway.”  
  
“I can’t believe you’re kicking me out, I’m so heartbroken,” Matsukawa deadpanned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “Man, if we ever moved out together, would you kick me out of the apartment just because you couldn’t do homework? _Heartless_.”  
  
Hanamaki seized his pillow and cuffed him over the head with it. “Yes, I would,” he said, equally deadpan. “I absolutely would. Now, shoo, I’ll see you on Wednesday for movie night.”  
  
“Did you want to have dinner tonight?” asked Matsukawa as he shuffled towards the door. “I feel like getting dumplings.”  
  
“No,” said Hanamaki a little too quickly. “I mean, I seriously have too much work so… Wednesday, okay?”  
  
Matsukawa gave him a funny look over his shoulder. “Well… okay. See you on Wednesday.”  
  
“See you.”  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
Matsukawa wasn’t sure if he was just imagining it, but Hanamaki seemed a little distant lately. Wednesday movie nights were still a thing, but he spaced out a lot more, their discussions about the movies weren’t as in-depth or enthusiastic, and he seemed a bit more hesitant to hang out on other days.  
  
“Nothing’s wrong,” said Hanamaki airily when Matsukawa asked him as they walked out of the cinema. “I’m just stressed out over assignments. I barely understand what’s going on in my classes.”  
  
“You could ask Iwaizumi for help,” suggested Matsukawa.  
  
“I’ve already bugged him a lot, and he’s beginning to hold it over me and making me buy him snacks in return. Don’t worry about me, I just need to study harder. I’ll be okay.”  
  
“Let me know if I can help out.” Matsukawa bumped him with his shoulder playfully. “Not sure how, but I can... I don’t know, come over and bring coffee or food or something.”  
  
“That’s so domestic,” said Hanamaki, but expressionlessly, not in a way that allowed for joking and banter.  
  
“Yeah,” said Matsukawa slowly, “I guess it is?”  
  
They didn’t say another word until they split off to return to their respective dorms.  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
“I’ve applied to teach Japanese in America for a few months.”  
  
Matsukawa looked up sharply from his textbook. “What?”  
  
A few weekends had passed, and Hanamaki was lying on Matsukawa’s dorm’s bed and tossing a volleyball up and down, not looking at his friend seated at his desk and attempting to study. “My uni has a sister school in New York, a bit north of New York City, and they’ve got some sort of new exchange program that involves teaching certain languages. It’s just started this year, so I applied for the Japanese teaching program.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Any other time, Matsukawa would have been able to come up with a silly light-hearted retort, but this was so out of the blue that he couldn’t think properly. What was going on? Why this change?  
  
“I think I just want something new,” said Hanamaki. “This program sounds pretty interesting, and I think living in New York for a while wouldn’t be a bad change, so I went for it.”  
  
It didn’t make sense; normally, Hanamaki would’ve asked Matsukawa for his thoughts before making such a big jump. Matsukawa felt an unpleasant sort of twinge in his stomach.  
  
“How long’s the program for?”  
  
“Um.” Hanamaki stopped tossing the ball and set it down on the bed, still not looking at him. “Six months.”  
  
“Six months,” Matsukawa repeated. Six months. Twenty-four weeks. One hundred and eighty-something days. Hanamaki would be gone for that long?  
  
“Yeah, I’ll have all that time. I think it’d be nice to travel for a bit.”  
  
“What about movie nights?” asked Matsukawa before he could stop himself. Hanamaki finally glanced his way and cracked a dry grin.  
  
“Well, I can’t exactly fly back once every week for that,” he said. “I don’t know. We could still see movies by ourselves? And then report back to each other on Skype or Line or something? We could watch films online and stream them simultaneously…”  
  
“You’d be in a completely different timezone.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Hanamaki thoughtfully. “Yeah, I would be.”  
  
“I don’t get it,” said Matsukawa with a little difficulty. “This came out of nowhere.”  
  
“Well, yeah… I wasn’t completely sure about it myself, which is why I didn’t say anything,” said Hanamaki. He was holding the volleyball again and spinning it in his hands, and not looking at him again. “But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a good move.”  
  
“Was this why you were so out of it for the past few weeks?”  
  
“Sort of? It was just school stuff, really. And this too, which also kind of counts as ‘school stuff’, so…” He shrugged. Matsukawa wanted to shake him. “Look, I haven’t even been accepted yet, so it might not even happen. I thought about waiting until I knew for sure before I told you, but I figured that was a bit _too_ out-of-nowhere.”  
  
“It’s just,” said Matsukawa with a vague wave of his hand, trying to keep his voice as casual as he could, trying to not sound too accusatory, too much like a spoilt child, “you usually tell me everything first.”  
  
“I guess,” said Hanamaki softly. “I think I was just nervous. Anyway, I’ll let you know how it goes. It might not go through after all.” He flopped back onto Matsukawa’s bed and resumed tossing the volleyball up and down, and that was the end of that conversation. Matsukawa turned back to his work, trying to ignore that stinging feeling that was building up in his chest.  
  
It just… didn’t make sense.  
  
_I think I just want something new._  
  
So Hanamaki was bored of the way things were here? Of his friends? (Of Matsukawa?) Of everything they did, their hanging out, having fun?  
  
It wasn’t enough?  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
“It’s not about any of us, Mattsun; this is about Makki, and this is his choice. Sometimes people just want something different, and sometimes there’s a reason for it, sometimes there isn’t. If he wants a change, then the best thing we can do for him is to support him.”  
  
“I just wish he had said something first.”  
  
“Mattsun–”  
  
“I _know_ , it’s not about any of us, I just… I’m… surprised.”  
  
“I understand.”  
  
“Six months.”  
  
“Six months sounds like a long time, but it’ll be over soon enough. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
Hanamaki was accepted into the teaching-exchange program.  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
From then onwards was a hectic time; they still didn’t miss any of their movie nights, but it was getting harder and harder to find the time to meet up on other days, as Hanamaki was increasingly busy trying to organise and finalise things for his trip. He had upped his English-speaking skills and used it as often as he could around his friends, which lead to a lot of good-natured teasing about Hanamaki’s attempts at fluency. Every time they met up, Hanamaki would chatter excitedly about places he wanted to see whilst in New York, and joked about what sort of souvenirs he could try to bring back.  
  
Every time, it brought a weird tightness to Matsukawa’s chest that he couldn’t really explain.  
  
The day he was to leave came quickly, and before Matsukawa would fully register what was happening, they were standing at the airport with Hanamaki’s parents, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi. He and Hanamaki had hugged briefly and said a quiet “take care of yourself” and nothing more. Hanamaki hugged Oikawa and Iwaizumi too before sharing a moment of light banter with them, and then hugged his mother and father, who beamed at him and patted his cheek and his back respectively. Hanamaki shouldered his carry-on backpack and with a wave, began making his way towards the gates.  
  
Matsukawa’s chest felt heavier and heavier as he watched Hanamaki walk further and further away. Maybe their good-bye had been too brief; there seemed to be so much that Matsukawa wanted to tell him, but the words weren’t forming right, and instead, _don’t go, don’t go, don’t go_ were running through his head and it made it a little hard to breathe, and none of it made sense, Hanamaki wasn’t going away permanently, it was just for a few months, _don’t go,_ he wasn’t leaving him behind, he would be back and they would be okay, they could hang out again, _don’t go, please don’t go,_ they could have their usual movie nights and have dinner with each other and with friends, _don’t go,_ things would be back to normal, it’d be over soon, he’d be back, and Matsukawa would be ( _don’t go_ ) with ( _don’t go_ ) him ( _don’t go_ ) again–  
  
The gates shut behind him.  
  
Matsukawa vaguely registered Hanamaki’s father thanking them for seeing Hanamaki off, and there was an awful finality about it; a sort of confirmation that yes, this was real, Hanamaki was leaving the country and heading into a completely different timezone, and then he’d be miles and miles away, and they wouldn’t see him for six long months, and–  
  
“Matsukawa,” said Iwaizumi, touching his arm lightly. “Come on, let’s go home.”  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
That heaviness and tightness in Matsukawa’s chest didn’t disappear for several days. It was the first time he would be away from Hanamaki for so long and at such a distance, and it was a weird feeling, like a part of him was missing.  
  
“He’s your best friend,” Oikawa and Iwaizumi both told him when they noticed he was even quieter than usual. “It’s normal to feel that way.”  
  
Was that the whole story though? It seemed like there was something else to it.  
  
He thought of their brief discussions about moving out and how that ended up going nowhere, of Hanamaki’s room with all its familiarity, of daydreams of coming home to that every day, of weekly movie nights and other times they hung out together…  
  
Six long months without any of that.  
  
Ah, this was so childish. When had he become so dependent on Hanamaki being around? Oikawa was right, this wasn’t about any of them, this was about Hanamaki and his choices, and he would be happy for him if that was what Hanamaki wanted; he deserved that much, after all. Matsukawa told himself this constantly like a mantra, kept himself busy with other friends, put more focus on school things… and after a while, that awful weight in his chest lessened.  
  
(It never disappeared, though.)  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
The young woman who regularly worked at the snack stand and saw Matsukawa and Hanamaki weekly, would give them their usual order of a large popcorn, a Coke for Hanamaki, and a lemonade for Matsukawa, along with a friendly smile. The first week Hanamaki had been overseas and Matsukawa had come to the cinema by himself, her smiled faltered a little and she looked around as though trying to find the other half of the pair, before handing Matsukawa his lemonade and a small popcorn.  
  
The following week was the same, her smile just as confused.  
  
The week after that, it seemed she had gotten used to seeing Matsukawa by himself. She handed Matsukawa his popcorn and drink like that had been the usual order all along.  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
“Some classmates took me to see _Jurassic World_ on Wednesday,” Hanamaki reported over Skype with a mouthful of dinner, nearly two months after leaving Japan.  
  
“Ju… what?” said Matsukawa sleepily.  
  
“ _Jurassic World_. The dinosaur movie.”  
  
“Oh, right, that one. How was it?”  
  
Hanamaki shrugged. “It was okay? The dinosaurs were cute. I think it’s more Iwaizumi’s kind of film, though. How about you, what movie did you see?”  
  
“What did I see…” said Matsukawa with a rub of his eyes. “I saw _Strayer’s Chronicle_. It wasn’t bad, but I’ve seen better.” He yawned.  
  
“Seriously, Matsukawa, why are you even awake a nearly seven on a Sunday morning? I mean, I appreciate it, but not if you’re going to pass out on your keyboard. Set your alarm for another two hours and go back to sleep, we can talk when you’re more awake and I’m not spitting my dinner all over the screen.”  
  
“I’m fine, I’ll wake up in a little bit,” said Matsukawa. “As for your dinner-spitting… I can’t help you there. Maybe if you stopped talking for two seconds…”  
  
“Get out,” said Hanamaki, but he was grinning as he took another mouthful of rice.  
  
They only had time to talk maybe once or twice a week if they were lucky, but they could easily talk for hours. It wasn’t anywhere close to being the same as having him around, but it sufficed. Hanamaki seemed to be settling in well enough into life in New York (“Aside from that time I got yelled at by some businessman in the city because I was walking too slow in front of him. People walk _so_ fast around here.”) and got along with his classmates and the students he was tutoring in Japanese (“One guy will not shut up about _Naruto_ though, oh my _god_ …”). He often sent Matsukawa and their friends photos: of his students, of various classmates and people he had met around university, of himself posing with the owners of a ramen restaurant he had found who originally also hailed from Sendai, of New York city lit up at night, of interesting buskers he came across, of a beaver he had found when some friends took him hiking…  
  
“Do you get homesick?” Matsukawa asked him.  
  
“Sometimes,” Hanamaki admitted. “It’s weird not having you guys around. Why, do you miss me?”  
  
“Pfftt, no,” said Matsukawa. “It’s really peaceful here, finally.”  
  
“Oi!”  
  
“The bakery you buy your cream puffs from keeps asking about you though. I guess they miss your patronage.”  
  
“Do they miss me, or my money? No, don’t answer that, I know your answer’s gonna break my heart.”  
  
Matsukawa grinned. “I’ve been buying cream puffs on your behalf, don’t worry.”  
  
“Aww, that’s so sweet! You really _do_ miss me! Why not just admit that? You’re so tsundere, Matsukawa.”  
  
“I’m blocking you. Bye.”  
  
“ _No_ , don’t you dare! Oi, get back here! _Matsukawa!_ ”  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
Matsukawa realised it, eventually.  
  
It was another Wednesday night, and he had just left the cinema after seeing some film that he knew nothing about, that ended up being a romantic drama. He was tired, hurting a little, and finally realising.  
  
He had seen so many movies, with and without Hanamaki; movies about couples finding each other by the end of it, people coming home and being reunited, hugging each other like it was the last thing they’d ever do together again… just being hopelessly, hopelessly in love in all sorts of ways, and Matsukawa found himself hopelessly in love with that closeness that they found in each other.  
  
He envied them, despite whatever he had said in the past about sappy film plotlines—people who were given their happy endings and something to look forward to. He envied their fortune and their courage to reach out to each other, and hated himself for keeping quiet about Hanamaki moving away. Not that he would have held him back, but he could have said _something_. He could have said _anything_.  
  
Because this was all about Hanamaki. Half of Matsukawa’s weekly routines involved Hanamaki; this weekly movie night thing had started by Hanamaki’s suggestion; this tightness in his chest (loneliness, if he was being completely honest with himself) was because he missed him; the regret and envy he felt were all because of things he was still yet to tell him.  
  
He would say _so much_. He would admit that he didn’t enjoy the cinemas like Hanamaki did and that he preferred they have their own movie nights at home. He would tell Hanamaki how he made him feel warm so often, and how sorry he was it took him so long to realise. He would tell him how much he wanted them to move out together, how much he wanted him to come home, that he was counting the days, and they were still so, so far away…  
  
He would tell Hanamaki that he sorry for being so selfish, but could he please let him have this, give him this chance? He would make it up to him, he would make him happy; whether it was continuing to go to the cinemas every Wednesday, buying him a cream puff every day, moving to New York with him if he wanted to continue teaching there…  
  
Matsukawa found himself standing right outside the door of his dorm room—he had completely spaced out and apparently arrived by way of auto-pilot. He ran a hand over his face.  
  
“Get it together,” he murmured to himself.  
  
Hanamaki had only left for three months, and in another three, he would fly back. It would be okay, Matsukawa could do it, he could weather out that time.  
  
And he would tell him, once he came home.  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
“My friends took me to see _Ant-Man_ on Wednesday,” said Hanamaki with a sleepy smile over their Skype chat. It was late Sunday morning where he was, and his hands were clutched around a mug of coffee.  
  
“The superhero film?” asked Matsukawa  
  
“Yeah. I liked it enough, but it felt kinda… rushed? I don’t know if that’s because my English still isn’t great, or if I’m actually right. My friends were making a fuss over the after-credit scenes, but I didn’t really get what was going on. Anyway, what did you watch?”  
  
“ _Tekkon Kinkreet_ was on TV, so I stayed home and watched that. I liked it. Have you seen it yet?”  
  
“Not yet. Re-watch it with me when I get back?”  
  
Matsukawa smiled. “Sure.”  
  
“Eat cream puffs with me too?”  
  
“Didn’t you say they had cream puffs over there?”  
  
“Yeah, but not like the ones from that bakery I go to. I’m having cravings for them.”  
  
“You _always_ crave them.”  
  
“True…”  
  
“I’ll eat cream puffs with you.”  
  
Hanamaki grinned. “Let’s get cheese-filled steaks for dinner, too.”  
  
“Definitely.”  
  
“And I’ve gotten used to walking fast because people kept stepping on my heels, so if I’m going too fast when I get back, let me know.”  
  
“I’ll run after you if I have to.”  
  
Matsukawa expected a joking retort to this, but Hanamaki’s grin just softened into a funny sort of smile.  
  
“Thanks,” was all he said.  
  
  
  
—  
  
  
  
They had hit the four-month mark. Movies were watched, jokes were shared over Skype and Line, photos of cream puffs were taken and sent to Hanamaki, who retaliated by sending Matsukawa photos of Philly cheesesteaks (“ _Holy shit, Hanamaki!_ Get the recipe!”), stories were shared, days were counted…  
  
Just two months left and Hanamaki would be back.  
  
Or, it _would_ be two months, if not for Hanamaki Takahiro standing _right outside the local cinema_ and smiling sheepishly at Matsukawa, who was frozen in shock and unsure whether he was actually there, or if he was just imagining things.  
  
“Surprise,” said Hanamaki. “I was thinking of watching _The Boy and the Beast_ , if you haven’t seen it already.” He gestured to the movie poster. Matsukawa just continued staring at him, and he explained, “Okay, uh, well… since this was the first year my uni had that exchange program, there were still a few kinks they had to work out. It turns out, both uni administrations were pretty slack? Anyway, there was some sort of clash with my student Visa, and I couldn’t stay the full six months, so I had to come back early. I told my parents, but not you guys; I wanted it to be a surprise. So…” He gave a little wave. “Hi. I’m– nonono, I’m still really jet-lagged, Matsukawa, don’t– _owowowowow_ –”  
  
Matsukawa had closed their distance in two steps and pulled him into a tight hug, like he wasn’t entirely convinced that it really was Hanamaki.  
  
“ _Dumbass_ , you’re squeezing me too tight!”  
  
It was him. It was really him. Matsukawa’s chest felt like it would burst as he buried his face in Hanamaki’s shoulder. He was _here_ , he was _home_.  
  
“Come on Matsukawa, I did not fly all these miles just to be crushed like this!”  
  
He loosened his grip on him slightly, half-expecting Hanamaki to push him away and crack a joke like they usually did, and they would go on like this, like everything was exactly the same. Instead, he felt Hanamaki’s arms around him and his hands on his back, and he heard him sigh a little.  
  
“Yeah, I’m home,” Hanamaki murmured. “I missed you too, dumbass.”  
  
It was about more than just _missing_ him, it was about more than Hanamaki coming home… more than all those nights watching movies together and all those nights watching movies alone, more than all those words not yet said, more than all those daydreams of a life shared with this boy whom Matsukawa just couldn’t imagine not being there. At some point, Hanamaki had become a constant, a staple, an anchor. Matsukawa knew that he could go on with his daily life without him, but Hanamaki being here made it easier to _breathe_ , like everything was going to be fine now that that little bit of colour had returned to Matsukawa’s world.  
  
He wondered when it was that Hanamaki had become synonymous with that feeling of warmth in his chest, of futures where he was happy, of everything Matsukawa had ever found security in… when it was that he ended up falling so hopelessly in love with him.  
  
Because this was love, wasn’t it?  
  
This was love: this happiness, this warmth, this familiarity, this… this… _sanctuary_ , because he was running out of words to describe it all, this way that Hanamaki simultaneously kept him grounded and completely overwhelmed him—this was love. And it was beautiful and frightening and dizzying and comforting all at once.  
  
He wanted to say something, but the words kept dying in his throat. When had he became so afraid to tell him all this, especially given that they rarely ever kept secrets from each other? It was just _Hanamaki_ , they were best friends, they understood each other, everything could be okay if Matsukawa would just _stop being so scared._  
  
Why, at this moment when it mattered so much, was it so hard to tell him?  
  
“Are you gonna let me go?” Hanamaki mumbled.  
  
“Do I have to?”  
  
“Well… I guess not.”  
  
Matsukawa let go and pulled away, searching Hanamaki’s face with his eyes and taking in all those familiar features. Hanamaki smiled again, face lighting up and eyes warm, and Matsukawa felt like _he_ was the one coming home after a long journey instead.  
  
“It’s good to see you,” said Hanamaki.  
  
“It’s good to see you, too,” said Matsukawa quietly. “When did you get back?”  
  
“Mid-afternoon. I left my luggage at my parents’ place and took a nap, and then woke up and came straight here.”  
  
“You already handed in paperwork to move out of your dorm, right? Where are you staying?”  
  
“With my parents until I can find a place, so I’m–”  
  
“Let’s move out,” said Matsukawa abruptly, and a flicker of surprised crossed Hanamaki’s face. “We keep talking about it, we might as well.”  
  
“Hmm, we have. It does make sense, doesn’t it?” Hanamaki looked thoughtful now. “We could rent an apartment somewhere between our unis.”  
  
“Split rent.”  
  
“Bills.”  
  
“Chores.”  
  
“Urgh, chores too. One or two bedrooms?”  
  
“Tw…” Matsukawa trailed off in surprise, and they stared at each other.  
  
“Two,” said Hanamaki quickly. “Of course two, what was I even saying–”  
  
“One,” Matsukawa blurted out, heart racing, “could work as well. I mean, we’ve shared rooms before when we went on trips together.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Hanamaki. “Yeah, of course.”  
  
There was another moment of staring at each other, and it was so frustrating because they were so _close_ to having a proper conversation and getting everything off their chests and saying what needed to be said, but they didn’t know how and this should not have been so _difficult_ …  
  
“Why did you leave?” was all Matsukawa managed to ask, and Hanamaki dropped his gaze to the ground.  
  
“I… realised something,” he said slowly. “It was really sudden. It kind of scared me and everything was a little overwhelming for a while, so I took the chance to run away instead of trying to deal with it.”  
  
“What scared you?”  
  
“It’s… well…”  
  
“Are you still scared?”  
  
“Kind of?” Hanamaki smiled wryly. “Why do I get the feeling you completely understand what I want to say?”  
  
It was Matsukawa’s turn to look away. “Because it’s probably true? But I’m terrible with feelings and I was hoping you’d be braver than I am, which is why I'm keeping quiet and being dishonest.” Hanamaki gave a little laugh.  
  
“That sounded pretty honest to me.”  
  
“That was the most honest I’ve been for a long time.”  
  
“So… I guess that makes it my turn, now?”  
  
“Only if you want to.”  
  
Around them, people trickled in and out of the cinema, pointing at movie posters and chatting about what they wanted to see and what snacks they wanted to eat. Somewhere in the distance, they could hear a busker’s violin, somewhere even further, a dog was barking, and cars were driving past on the main road, but at this moment, it was just the two of them. Every moment of honesty was like a weight lifting off their shoulders, and they knew they couldn’t stop this; they had to push on or they would be stuck at this point forever, and they couldn’t do that, they had come too far for it.  
  
“You were napping on my bed that day we were meant to be doing our assignments at my dorm,” said Hanamaki at last. “You looked really peaceful, and I just… felt this huge rush of… of… affection for you? Something sappy like that? And I thought, ‘I’d like to come home to that every day’ and that’s when I realised that things were… different. And I guess I got scared because–”  
  
“You were scared of the change. You didn’t know how I would feel about it. ”  
  
“Yeah,” said Hanamaki softly. “Yeah, that’s exactly it.” There was a small smile on his face that was equal parts uncertain and relieved, and Matsukawa felt his own rush of affection for him.  
  
“I really didn’t want you to leave,” said Matsukawa. “I really wanted to tell you to stay, but I didn’t want to hold you back. But now that I think about it, I guess that was just an excuse. I think what I really wanted was just a little more time; I would’ve been completely okay with you going to New York if I had thrown all my sappy feelings at you first. I was scared too. I’m sorry.”  
  
“The hell are you apologising for?”  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”  
  
“I’m sorry I ran away.”  
  
“I ran away too.”  
  
“And I also didn’t say anything.”  
  
Matsukawa ran his hands over his face. “We’re such dumbasses, oh my god.”  
  
They shared a laugh at this, and it was warm and familiar and just felt so _right_ , and it was a huge relief to know that their fears were for nothing. All those moments of waiting had led to this, and it was finally worth it in the end.  
  
“I really don’t want to see a movie right now,” Matsukawa admitted.  
  
“Okay,” said Hanamaki with a nod. “We’ll go somewhere else. Have you had dinner?”  
  
“Not yet. You?”  
  
“Nope, and I’m _really_ hungry. I had too many Philly cheesesteaks in New York though, so… can we do a rain-check on the cheese-filled steaks? Does all-you-can-eat okonomiyaki sound okay?”  
  
“Perfect.”  
  
“I want to get cream puffs afterwards, too.”  
  
“Anything.” Matsukawa smiled, and it felt like his first real smile in a long time. “Anything’s fine.”  
  
“Let’s go apartment-hunting tomorrow.”  
  
“Yeah. Hell, we can go right after dinner.”  
  
Hanamaki grinned and reached for his hand, and Matsukawa felt his heartbeat speed up as they curled their fingers together with an inexplicable familiarity, like they belonged that way, like they had done it a hundred times in the past.  
  
“Making up for lost time?” said Hanamaki.  
  
“Something like that,” Matsukawa replied.  
  
“ _God_ , I can’t believe how sappy we’ve gotten. Maybe it’s all the movies we watched.”  
  
“Probably. Speaking of, can we cut down on cinema nights a little? I like our movie nights at home a lot more.”  
  
“That works for me,” said Hanamaki with a nod. “We can download the movies that we didn’t catch or something.”  
  
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Matsukawa squeezed his hand a little. “Come on, let’s have dinner. Tell me more about New York, and then afterwards, we’ll start house-hunting, and then… whatever. We have time, now.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Hanamaki softly. “Yeah, we have time.”  
  
They shared another grin and, hand-in-hand, began walking down the street, away from the cinema.

  
—————

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiii, I have a [twitter](http://twitter.com/naffnuffnice) and a [tumblr](http://naff-nuff-nice.tumblr.com/)! o/


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